


Never Felt So Alive

by angstytimelord



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angsty Hannibal, Desk Sex, M/M, Obsession, Visions of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-02 00:36:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1050442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstytimelord/pseuds/angstytimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal has never felt as alive as he does when he and Will are together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Felt So Alive

Hannibal went to the door immediately when he heard the knock; he was expecting Will. He had called the young man, asking him to come over as soon as he could.

He needed Will, in a way that he'd never needed anyone before. Needed him _now_ , immediately, if not sooner.

He couldn't wait. Not any longer.

After the dream he'd had when he had fallen asleep this afternoon, a dream that had shaken him to his very core, he needed to be with Will, needed to hold that beautiful body in his arms, needed to feel Will's strength, his warmth, his essence.

Hannibal pulled Will after him into the living room, leading the young man to his desk. Without a word, he began to strip off Will's jacket, then his shirt.

"Take off your shoes and socks, Will." His voice was low, insistent, throbbing with need.

"Hannibal, what ...." Will's voice trailed off as Hannibal stared at him, the look in his eyes unmistakable. It was as thought a silent message passed between them.

There were no more words, no more questions. Will merely nodded and did as he was told, as Hannibal made quick work of pulling the younger man's jeans and boxers down and off.

Without further ado, he lifted Will slightly so that he was siting on Hannibal's desk, then pushed him back. Will propped himself up on his elbows, gazing up at Hannibal, obviously waiting for whatever he was told to do next.

So beautiful. So obedient. So .... _alive_.

It didn't take him long to remove his own clothes and reach for the bottle of lube that he'd placed within easy reach on the desk; he was ready even before he began prepping Will.

He slicked himself with lube, then carefully eased two fingers inside Will, watching as his young lover's head fell back and he moaned Hannibal's name. They were both ready, both eager for each other. He barely had to prepare Will this time.

Will looked up at him, his sinfully pink lips parted, his blue eyes like sapphires in the dimness of the room. "Hannibal ..." His voice was a hoarse whisper in the silence.

Hannibal shook his head, hauling Will upright and barely taking a moment to let them both take a breath before plunging into him.

The heat, the throbbing, the pulse of _life_. Yes, this was what he needed.

After that dream, he needed to be inside Will, needed to thrust into his warm, willing body over and over again. He needed to convince himself that Will was alive, that he was here, in his arms, that they were together, that Will hadn't been torn away from him.

He had to convince himself that Will was _alive_. In that dream, he hadn't been. He had been lying cold and lifeless on a stone slab, gone from Hannibal in every possible way.

It had been horrific, a sight that Hannibal never wanted to view.

Losing Will was not an option. Not now, and not ever. Will was _his_ \-- his to touch, his to hold, his to kiss, his to .... his to _love_. In both the physical and the emotional sense of the word. Will was his in every way; nothing would tear them apart.

Will's long legs were wrapped around his waist, Will's arms around his neck. Will was clinging to him, almost wrapped around him as he thrust into the willing warmth of that gorgeous body. Will was warm, alive, giving himself freely and willingly.

Will was here with him. Will was giving his body -- and his heart as well. He had seen evidence of that in those incredibly blue eyes.

He would give Will what they both wanted -- and needed. Hannibal thrust again, deeper this time, making Will gasp and moan hi name. He knew that he was being unusually rough, but he couldn't pause, couldn't force himself to go more slowly.

He needed to feel the life force that flowed through both of them, the primal need that connected them. He needed to feel _alive_ , more so than he had ever done.

He never felt so alive as when he was one with Will.

Will's body around him, thrusting into that seductive heat. Will's limbs wrapped around him, holding him close, giving him no way to escape their close embrace. Will's essence all around him, enveloping him, letting him know that he was alive.

And that Will was alive. That Will was here with him, surrounding him, opening himself to him. That Will loved him, and would always be here.

They were both alive. They were here. They were together, in the most primal way that they could possibly be. He had to hold on to that.

Will was in his arms. He wasn't dead. He was alive and warm and vital, his body taut and hot around Hannibal, his muscles tightening with each thrust, his soft moans echoing in the silence. Will was here, he was alive, he was .... he was everything.

That was all Hannibal needed to know.

He closed his eyes, his arms tightening around Will's slender waist, thrusting into him again, and yet again. He could feel his body's release just beyond his reach, straining, yearning, ready to tip over that edge and fell back to earth from the heavens.

When that release came, he poured his essence into Will, his own groan joining his young lover's in the quiet air of the room, his body reaching the apex of pleasure.

He kept his arms around Will, pulling him even closer, if that was possible.

Neither of them spoke for what seemed like a very long time; Hannibal finally raised a hand to run gentle fingers through Will's hair, enjoying the feel of the silken strands against his skin.

When he finally raised his head to look into Will's eyes, his young lover looked dazed, as though he was still in the throes of pleasure. Hannibal could feel Will's body trembling; the aftershocks of their coupling were still coursing through him, not quite over yet.

"I needed you," he whispered hoarsely, attempting to explain what this had been about. "I just .... needed you." He had no other words.

How could he explain what he had felt? How could he impart the horror of feeling, in those darkly confused moments after he had awakened from that horrific dream, that Will was gone, that they would never touch and kiss and love again?

There was nothing that could express what he had felt.

He had needed to feel Will's life, his heart, his strength, needed to know that Will was his. It had been a panic that kept building in his soul, until he'd absolutely had to be with Will, had to touch him, to take him, to have him, to be inside him.

Now that he'd gotten what he wanted, his panic was calmed. He had Will here, in his arms, and all was well. The fear had receded.

Fear? Yes, he'd felt fear when his subconscious mind had told him that his dream was real, that Will was gone. He'd felt a loss unlike any he had ever known, a loss that he knew he could never recover from. The loss of his love.

His love. His Will. The man who would always own his heart, the man who meant more to him than anyone or anything else ever could.

But that hadn't happened. The dream wasn't true, thank goodness.

Will was here, with him, alive and well and warm in his arms. Will was all right. He wasn't lying cold and dead on some impersonal table in a lab. He was here, locked in Hannibal's embrace, and here he would stay. Here they would be, for the rest of their lives.

He would never lose Will. He wouldn't allow it to happen. Not now, not ever. Will would always be here, in his arms. Will would always belong to him.

And he would always belong to Will.

Carefully, he pulled out of Will, moving away slightly and disentangling himself from their embrace. He held out a hand to help his young lover stand; then pulled Will close against him; he could feel that Will's legs were wobbly, that he needed the support.

Perhaps that was something he would always need. And it was something that Hannibal could give him, freely and willingly.

His support, and his love. Will would always have both.

He held Will for what seemed like a long time to him, but was probably only a few minutes. He needed to go upstairs, to get the two of them into the shower, to cleanse their bodies before they slipped between cool sheets to fall asleep in each other's arms.

Smiling tiredly, he held out a hand to Will. "Come upstairs with me, Will. Sleep in my arms tonight. I need to feel you there, next to me."

Will nodded, his blue eyes serious, his voice soft when he spoke. "I need you, too."

He'd needed to hear nothing else. Nothing but those few words. They were everything to him; those words told him that all was right with his world.

Hannibal smiled as Will's much smaller hand slipped into his own; he turned and led his lover out of the room and up the stairs.

He had never felt so alive as he did tonight.


End file.
